


Will Save the Galaxy for Sex

by profit_of_the_prophet



Category: Will Save The Galaxy For Food (Yahtzee Croshaw)
Genre: F/M, There is sex in this and you may not enjoy it unless you read the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profit_of_the_prophet/pseuds/profit_of_the_prophet
Summary: They decided to do it. They were going to have sex.





	Will Save the Galaxy for Sex

**Author's Note:**

> One of a kind, get your rare fic here, no one would have thought to make a fic like this, folks!

They decided to do it. They were going to have sex.

Warden found it difficult to read McKeown most times, so it relieved her when he followed her after supper and pressed her against the wall, growling “Let's do it,” in her ear, making her heart hammer like a brick in a washing machine.

Her face was carefully neutral as she nodded, and he pushed away to walk towards the elevators leading to the docking bay. Was he thinking of doing it in that old piece of junk he called a ship?

“McKeown,” she called before he could press the down button. “My rooms are much nicer.”

McKeown made a face halfway between offended and relieved. In truth he hadn't really cleaned up; this whole thing was made on an impulse. Warden was painfully attracted to him, and she was getting worse at hiding it. During dinner she was staring at his hands. He reasoned his decision was to get it out of her system, not because he actually wanted to, of course. She was basically a scarecrow in a suit, so banging a heart into her was an act of kindness.

Warden reached past him to press the up button, but some doint must have been up at the top of the building because it took forever to arrive. McKeown rocked back and forth, feeling like he had to break the awkward silence. Warden was clutching her hands together and standing perfectly still, but McKeown noticed she was perhaps breathing a bit fast.

“So,” he began, “is this your first time?”

Warden's head snapped towards him with a glare. “I do not see how that is any of your business, McKeown.”

That sounded like a yes. He wondered if she'd ever even masturbated, but the idea looked too strange in his head. He wouldn't put it past her to prostitute herself off in order to secure a favour, though.

“Well, you chose the right guy to pop the hatch, so to speak. I'm quite experienced in the area.” He tried winking at her. She sneered.

“If the prospect of what diseases you carry is supposed to make me reconsider this, it's working.”

The elevator arrived and McKeown recognized the occupant as a fellow star pilot off to supper. He did a double take when McKeown and Warden stepped past together and looked at the glowing up button.

“You going up? Together?”

The colour drained from both faces as they turned around. The star pilot made an annoyingly knowing ah face and smirked.

“Right,” he said in a dragged out sing song way that made McKeown flinch. “Well, have fun!”

The doors closed as he strutted off to the mess hall. McKeown smacked his face and groaned.

“Perfect, now that's going to be spread around to everyone in this plying place.”

“If you had planned to keep this a secret, you should have come up with an excuse,” said Warden levelly. “As far as he was concerned I was going up to my room.”

“If you think there was anything I could've said that didn't scream liar, liar, pants on fire, then you're seriously overestimating me.”

“I can assure you I have never made that mistake,” Warden replied.

The elevator stopped again and a young woman got on. She was too enraptured in something on her phone to notice them but McKeown still tensed up with anxiety. He hadn't properly considered how tarnished his reputation would be by sleeping with Warden, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

They arrived at Warden's floor after several strained moments of silence, and Warden stepped off, but McKeown couldn't move. She looked back at him impassively as the doors slid shut again.

It was fine, he told himself. He'd just wait until the girl got off and then take the elevator back down. Maybe a little space to think about this would put some sense into him.

The girl reached forward to press her floor number, and McKeown realized with a sinking feeling that it was the one right above Warden's, also known as the top floor.

They arrived all too soon and the girl looked inquisitively at him. “Aren't you getting off?” she asked. What was she implying?

“Oh, nah,” he squeaked out. “Missed my stop a few floors down.”

She squinted at him closely, making beads of sweat appear on his forehead. “Aren't you…”

Please don't say about to have sex with Warden, please don't say about to have sex with Warden.

“...that star pilot who rescued the president's daughter?” She clapped and smiled like she just guessed a trivia question correctly. “Oh my gosh, I've heard so much about you!”

McKeown flicked the switch in his head and smiled. “Why yes I am,” he said, gallantly wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Are you going down for supper?” she asked. “I was just about to head down after grabbing my little brother. He loves star pilots and all that. Would you mind if we sat with you?”

For some reason, McKeown said, “I'd love to! I'll see you there.”

“Can you hold the elevator? I'll just be a sec, and you know this thing takes so long to come back up.”

McKeown nodded and made an affirmative noise through the fixed smile attached to his face. She smiled and bounced away to collect her brother. As soon as she turned away McKeown was stabbing his finger at the close door button. He could hear the girl calling for her brother from the door of her rooms. Couldn't she have just gone in herself? As a result she and a boy who looked about five years old arrived at the doors just as they were closing. He mouthed sorry at her shocked expression and the boy's cringingly adoring one. He banged his head against the door and groaned. Forget having his reputation ruined by Warden; he'd be labelled a div for multiple reasons now.

The doors opened again to Warden's unimpressed passive face. McKeown scowled and stepped past her. “Don't say anything,” he warned.

“What could I possibly say? You've clearly sorted it all out.”

He tapped his foot impatiently while Warden slowly tiptoed towards her door, a smug look on her expressionless face. She put a hand on the handle when the reality of what they were doing came back to her, and she had to take a careful breath before opening the door and going inside. She could hear McKeown's rude huff of air and heavy boots follow behind her, but she refused to look at him. Instead she followed her usual routine upon returning home; shoes off and away in the closet, jacket unbuttoned and hung up, into the kitchen for a glass of water and to feed her pet flytrap a half ounce of meat.

McKeown kicked his boots off as well but stopped to look around. It was his first time seeing Warden's place, and he found it suited her. Sparse decorations, meaning none if you didn't count the curtains. There was a little picture frame on the shelf by the door with a random family still smiling out of it—did she think it was some strange corporate artwork?

Now McKeown wasn't lying when he said he was experienced in the talent of lovemaking. Being a starpilot meant there were dozens of woman falling over themselves to spend a night with the hero that saved a planet, some of them with a little more tentacles than he was used to, but he could roll with it. Most times it had been initiated with flirting followed by a drink then a passionate make out session which led to this and that. He didn't think he could do that with Warden, unfortunately. Kissing her probably would have made him feel like a teenage girl kissing the poster of her favourite celebrity. Should he undress, lay on her bed with nothing but a pillow? She'd probably complain of him leaving his clothes on the floor. He settled with standing there awkwardly, watching her slowly go around her kitchen. Was she looking for tools? He didn't take her for the kinky type, but who knew what really went on in that brain of hers. He imagined her spanking him with a spatula, but the image didn't stick.

She turned to see him staring stupidly at her and sighed in a way that said, well, we got this far, might as well get it over with.

She walked over to him and stuck out her chin. “Right, go in the room and take your clothes off. Leave them folded on the dresser and I'll be right in.”

McKeown blinked. Her seduction sounded more like a doctor telling him to bend over.

“You don't want to have a drink, chat for a bit, you know, loosen up?”

“Do I seem like the sort of person to waste time, McKeown?”

She had a fair point there. McKeown did as he was told, standing with a limp dick and no idea what he was doing there. Warden took a while, long enough to wonder what she was doing and test out a few different positions on the bed. He was experimenting with being on his stomach with his knuckles supporting his chin when Warden walked back in, and he sprang up to face her.

She was wearing honest to god lingerie. When would she have gotten that? It was still a sensible piece as far as underwear went, simple silk black shorts and basically a tank top with lace around the hems. And yet…

Warden was taken aback by McKeown's naked body. He wasn't jacked, but there was something raw and well aged in the dark scarred curves of him that made her want to touch. Her eyes scanned him, carefully avoiding his crotch and eyes, until he took a step forward, making her glance up in surprise. There was a look in his eyes that she had trouble deciphering. He looked confused, perhaps a bit angry, with a touch of amusement?

Without meaning to she looked down at his penis, which while underwhelming on its own, was rising as his arousal took form. The realization sent a jolt of something to her very core, and her heart beat so loud she could hear it. She was turning him on. The idea turned her on even more and suddenly she couldn't take it anymore.

Warden was on him in a flash, pushing him against her closet doors and biting his shoulder with almost enough force to break the skin.

“Ow!” McKeown cried out, but she was already licking it gently, sucking like the suction cup on an octopus. He reached up experimentally and put a hand under her shirt, sliding up the surprisingly soft skin of her back and felt her shudder at his touch. He was instantly undone.

Warden dotted bites and kisses over his chest all while running her hands over his many scars, and every accidental bump of her stomach against the tip of his cock sent unpleasant sparks of electricity through him. He growled and picked her up around the waist, which surprised her enough to make her wrap her arms and legs around him like a sloth on a branch. He dumped her on the bed roughly, honestly not caring if she was hurt, and pulled off her shorts to reveal another, plainer pair of black cotton underpants. She sat up on her elbows and looked so familiarly put off yet expressionless that he dove forward and kissed her. He surprised even himself with that one.

The kiss was terrible, rushed and painful, but Warden grabbed his head, keeping him there and slowly it softened as she lay her head against the pillow, and he found himself experiencing the strangest bloom of warmth in his stomach. He pulled away as she opened her eyes and they stared at each other in shock, searching each other's eyes for something unspeakable. Then Warden reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead and McKeown flinched.

“Do you still want this?” she asked in her clipped tones, but McKeown could sense something vulnerable under the surface. In answer he buried his head in her neck and sucked on the baby powder scented skin, making her almost moan, even though it was more of a gasp. He struggled to pull the tank top off and ended up ripping it, though by some miracle Warden didn't notice or didn't care. He ran his hands over her breasts, soft and larger than he would have guessed considering her frame, and pressed kisses against her neck and shoulders as his hands dragged down towards the band of her underwear. Warden seemed to be trying to help the endeavour of taking them off, but the wiggling honestly seemed only to get in the way.

Finally he got up and pulled them down her legs, letting them drop to the floor, and for a moment he just stood there, looking down at Warden, the most bare he, or probably anyone, had ever seen her. The thought that she might be a virgin came back in a flash but that somehow made him even harder, if that was possible. She was breathing hard and looking back at him, a silent understanding transposing between the space yet unfilled.

Slowly, slowly, as if in a dream, McKeown crept back over her, positioning himself appropriately and running a finger between her legs. She was as wet as a dish sponge, and sensitive as a clam. Her legs squeezed around his exploring hand but he gently pushed them aside and rubbed a broad hand over her, up and down, basically salivating at the way her back arched. He was about to stick a finger in when she sat up, grabbed his shoulders, and flung him down, swinging her legs over him.

She looked down at his cock bouncing against his stomach and seemed unwilling to actually touch it, but she collected her control and grabbed it firmly, sitting up, then sitting down, burying herself to the shaft. They cried out together as blissful warmth flooded their bodies, but Warden couldn't move until the stars stopped spotting her eyes. Then she moved, hitting spots she didn't even know were there, and after two grinding movements, flung her head back and made a choking sound as something ripped through her and she collapsed onto McKeown's chest.

McKeown said, “Uh…”

Warden froze up.

“Did you just… come?”

Warden sat up again in a flash and removed herself from his still achingly hard penis. The sensation of his tip popping out almost had her undone again, but she collected herself and sat back on her heels, trying to regain her dignity.

“It has been a while,” she reasoned, sensibly.

“Sure,” McKeown responded, an infuriating half smile crinkling his eyes. “You good to try again?”

Warden was not; she could still feel the vibrations of her orgasm making her insides shudder, and she feared another go so soon would cause her to pass out. Instead she reached out and put a manicured hand firmly around McKeown's penis. He gasped in shock, but his pleasure was short lived as he experienced Warden's version of a handjob.

“Here, let me,” he said and for a moment Warden was furious—he wouldn't jack off now, would he? But he put his hand around hers and gently moved it in time with his preferences, twisting and feeling and alternating methods of pressure until he felt she had gotten the hang of it and brought his hand up to rest against his eyes as his breathing quickened. Warden was fully intent on his penis, determined to give him the best handy of his life, but just when he was on the tipping point, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her away.

She stared at him in an affronted way, but when she realized how he was screwing up his eyes and struggling to breathe, her anger subsided.

The sideshow had been enough distraction to give her time to regain herself and she found her vagina throbbing with the need to be filled again, immediately. She mounted his legs again, with much better hopes of how long she would last this time, but McKeown stopped her.

“I need a minute to recover from that; you don't want us both spewing prematurely.”

Warden ignored that but obeyed. She sat beside him then lay down, arms folded across her chest to remind him of her impatience. McKeown's eyes were closed, however, and to her surprise he gave out a dry chuckle.

“Never thought we'd be here, eh?” he said, mostly to himself.

“Yes, I thought you'd have killed us both by now.”

“No, I mean this,” he gestured at them vaguely. “I always assumed you hate me.”

“I do hate you,” said Warden immediately. The look on his face made her go on reluctantly. “Well, I did hate you. Perhaps it's lessened to a general annoyance.”

McKeown smiled despite himself. For Warden that was basically a testimony of love.

He sat up and rolled onto her, supporting himself with hands on either side of her head. “I find you extremely annoying.”

“This is not a compet—” Warden began, but she was interrupted by his mouth closing over hers, this time with the unwelcome sensation of tongue. She pressed against his chest, returning the kiss despite her actions, and suddenly he was away, leaving her grasping for him.

Hands pushed her thighs up and against two shoulders, and Warden wasn't even given a warning as he entered again. When she looked at him he was wearing a ludicrous grin that she wanted to slap off, but the urge was washed away with his next thrust which seemed to go deep into the region of her intestines. He started off slow with his thrusts, but they were always deep and well aimed. She hated the fact that he was actually good at this, hated that she was squirming on the sheets, hated the sounds coming out her mouth, though they were barely whimpers, and she hated the man she could only think of as Jacques McKeown.

McKeown started to pick up the pace, unable to stop himself, but Warden didn't seem in any pain, not that he cared. Each thrust couldn't compare to his thoughts and his eyes which showed he was really inside Warden, the Warden, the woman he wished he had never met but now couldn't live without. The memory of his hatred for her sparked a fire higher than her naked body could have set off in him and he leaned forward and tried to growl something in her ear, but it came out choked and twisted and now he couldn't even remember what he was going to say because she was sloppily kissing his cheek and it was all he could do to bury his face in her neck as the edge came and he felt himself falling as if from a great height.

Warden felt him stop for a second before warmth filled her inside and she realized with honestly unjustified shock they should have used a condom that he had just come inside her. Her indignation was overridden by her own edge being met as her back arched, the warmth inside her a gentle pressure against her insides that set her off more than any hard pounding he could have given her. Their chests pressed against each other and in the moments that felt like hours they could feel each others hearts beating nearly in tempo. Like a magnet that bounced against another magnet when turned the wrong way but sticks together when you give one a spin, they embraced as the waves of hot pleasure ripped through them, as one.

When they both fell back to the bed, breathing harder than a marathoner, both experienced the strange sensation that more time had passed than actually had, and Warden had to check the clock on her bedside table.

McKeown rolled off her, and they lay like that for a full minute before Warden swung her legs off the bed and stood up shakily.

“Where are you going?” asked McKeown. She didn't answer as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. McKeown's head thudded back against the pillow and wondered if he should get dressed. Then he heard the sound of the shower being turned on in another room and rose, going over to his neatly folded clothes —he hated her for being right about the sense in folding them—and started to dress.

He was picking up his boots when Warden finally stepped out of the washroom, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe. She froze at the sight of him.

“Are you leaving?”

McKeown was about to say “obviously”, but her tone and look were so blatantly disappointed to him that he backtracked in confusion.

“I didn't expect you'd want me to stay the night,” he said cautiously.

Warden sniffed. “I don't know how it is for people where you're from, but generally I'd have considered it the polite thing to do.”

McKeown nodded. “Don't want to look rude, I suppose.”

Warden nodded in agreement. “Yes, your reputation is bad enough already.”

Talk of reputation reminded McKeown of all the gossip currently going on in the mess hall, courtesy of that young girl and the star pilot, but he found himself caring a bit less than before. He hadn't expected the sex to be _that_ good.

He followed her back into the bedroom, dropping his boots by the door again, and crawled under the sheet only after taking off his jacket. It only seemed proper since she had changed into medieval looking pajamas that covered nearly every inch of her and had the shape of a bag of flour.

“Good night, McKeown,” she said, reaching up to flick a switch on her headboard, turning the room black as a grave. He was surprised at how quickly her breathing turned soft and steady; he must have really worn her out. He turned on his side, and even though he couldn't see even his own hand in the dark, he reached until he felt the ends of her hair on the pillowcase and played with them with a strange feeling of taboo.

He lay awake nearly half the night, periodically checking his phone to track the time, but he was too amped up to sleep. He considered waking Warden up to ask if he could go again, but he had too many bad experiences waking up sleeping woman, and opted not to.

Warden wasn't a restless sleeper but she did turn about a few times, and somehow she got close enough so that she was a mere inch away from his chest, her warm breath against his neck making him go cold. Carefully so as not to wake her, he inched even closer, lifting her sleeve so that it was draped over him and not squeezed between them and edging her head under his bicep. He had a rush of joy at the thought of how angry she'd be waking up in that position, but her warmth soothed him, and finally he too drifted off into dreams.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I wrote this in an angry rush when I finished the book and these two never got together. Take that, Yahtzee!


End file.
